The grand plaza outside the Imperial Ancestral Hall beside the Forbidden City was a sea of crimson silk and glittering diamond lights.
Ancient vermilion palace walls, six centuries old, stood illuminated by massive industrial spotlights. A two-hundred-meter crimson carpet stretched from the carved white marble balustrades all the way to the gilded bronze entrance doors.
Hundreds of luxury limousines lined the perimeter drive. Rolls-Royces, Maybachs, and custom Bentleys rolled forward in an unbroken procession of capital wealth.
A stretched black Bentley with tinted bulletproof glass rolled to a halt at the VIP drop-off zone.
A liveried chauffeur opened the rear door.
Out stepped Young Master Situ Hao. He was twenty-eight years old, tall and slender, wearing a bespoke burgundy velvet dinner jacket with diamond-encrusted gold buttons.
A floating prompt hovered above his head:
[Target: Situ Hao]
